


Milestones

by FloatNBloat



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: (slight) gore, Angst, Attempted healthy relationship, Explicit Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Porn with Feelings, Recovery, Self Loathing, Self-Harm, Trauma, Unconventional Self-Harm, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloatNBloat/pseuds/FloatNBloat
Summary: Saeran Choi never imagined he’d find love. He never wanted to. But while recovering from his past and the destruction of Mint Eye, he finds safety in the blonde man with a goal to teach Saeran how to love.
Relationships: Choi Saeran/Kim Yoosung
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I decided not to include Saeran’s DID due to not being confident I could properly portray it or know enough about it. Many game spoilers ahead!
> 
> I’m hoping to update every Friday.

Their relationship had been slow, although neither of them minded. Yoosung’s heart broke seeing the man he cared for struggle through panic attacks, so close but so far. The ache in his chest wasn’t painful enough to risk breaking Saeran’s carefully set rules. When Saeran’s PTSD took him over, Yoosung knew his role. He could try to verbally console him unless Saeran objected, but he had to stay at least two yards away. 

It was torturous for the blonde. He wanted nothing but to rush to Saeran’s side, run his fingers through the red roots of his hair and hold him close. But he knew better. Saeran’s recovery was fragile. Yoosung couldn’t risk ruining it. 

Their relationship progressed through tiny milestones. Yoosung didn’t mind abandoning his preset ideas of a relationship. The first time he got to hold Saeran’s hand through a panic attack was as magical as a first kiss. Knowing the man that had been through so much trusted him to be so close during his most vulnerable moments brought tears to Yoosung’s eyes when he reminisced on how far they had come. 

Yoosung looked over at the sleeping figure next to him, a gentle smile on his face. Saeran was fast asleep, back to the blonde. 

Sharing a bed had been a dilemma for the redhead. It only came after he could finally breathe and relax his taut muscles when Yoosung leaned against him on the couch. That alone had taken time. It made Saeran glow with pride thinking back to how he used to be on edge when Yoosung was just in the house. How times had changed. 

Saeran had grown accustomed to Yoosung’s clingy nature, even catching himself longing for it while Yoosung was at school. Saeran still preferred to stay at the bunker, a place he could control every aspect to keep it consistent and safe. Yoosung would often return from school with flowers or candy for the other. His gifts and sunny personality was enough to make Saeran feel like he went somewhere past the tall fence around the bunker garden. 

Although unlabeled, their relationship had progressed. Saeran didn’t trust love. What V and Rika had was always called love, and he wanted no part of it. If he loved Yoosung, he’d hurt him. Yoosung did his best to understand Saeran’s wishes. The ex honor student used is talent in researching to learn all he could about healing from trauma and relationships. 

Their first kiss had changed the relationship. It was simple, both of them laying in bed and struggling to fall sleep. 

“Yoosung?” Saeran had broken the silence first, sitting up. “Are you asleep?” He whispered. 

“Hmm?” Yoosung hummed sleepily, before understanding what Saeran had said. He sat up quickly, blonde hair a mess from his tossing and turning. Saeran had to look away, nerves already making his heart race, and Yoosung’s adorable sleepy pout not helping. “Is something wrong?” 

Saeran took a moment to respond, trying to gather both himself and his words. He knew that he had to say it right. Yoosung wasn’t free of his own struggles. If Saeran started any sentence that could sound negative about their relationship, Yoosung’s anxiety and self doubt would immediately jump in and twist whatever came next. Saeran didn’t want to ruin this. “Nothing is wrong. I’m happy with where we are. I.. I want to keep moving forward.”

Yoosung took a second to register. His cheeks turned pink, stumbling over a response. So many thoughts ran through his mind at once Yoosung briefly wondered if he’d forgotten to take his ADHD medication. “Wh-what do you mean?” He stumbled out.

Saeran watched his face. He was endearing. He couldn’t get his thoughts out watching the blushing boy though, looking down at his lap. “I... I haven’t done this in a long time, but, I think I’m ready.” He started, briefly glancing up at Yoosung to read his expression. Yoosung watched him expectantly. Saeran cleared his throat to continue. “I want.. to try kissing you. If- if you want that too.” 

Yoosung smiled hearing it. He’d been looking forward to it for so long. He had to remind himself to respond. “I want that too. I really do.” He started, making sure he made eye contact so Saeran knew he was genuine. When Yoosung caught Saeran’s shy smile and nod, his heart skipped a beat. He had to take a few moments before continuing, realizing Saeran wasn’t going to speak. “But... I, I’ve never done this, so-“ 

“I’ll lead.” Saeran cut him off. “It’s easier that way.” 

Yoosung nodded, moving closer to the other man. He swallowed nervously. “What should I-“ 

Saeran cut him off, pressing his lips to his. Yoosung’s worries were forced out of him, the sensations of the rough kiss all he could focus on. Saeran had never been taught to be gentle, when frenzied hookups in back rooms and less than consensual encounters were all he knew. 

Saeran’s hand fell to the back of Yoosung’s neck, other on his hip. Yoosung didn’t object, gripping Saeran’s night shirt tightly as Saeran’s tongue moved past his lips. 

A breathless moan and gasp had Saeran coming back to present. He kept his hand on Yoosung’s waist, pulling back. Yoosung was dazed, panting softly. Still kneeling, his legs were spread. It was only when Yoosung’s hands fell to Saeran’s thighs that Saeran had realized he’d done something wrong. 

Saeran quickly moved Yoosung’s hands away, pulling back. Yoosung broke from his daze, eyes widening. “I’m sorry.” They both said at once, looking at the other in surprise. 

“I- I shouldn’t’ve touched you. I’m sorry.” Yoosung started. 

“No, I- I went too far. Fuck, I went too far. I’m sorry, fuck-“ Saeran was cut off by Yoosung gently taking his hand in his. The redhead stared up at Yoosung, caught off guard by the gentle smile on his flushed face. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I.. I didn’t expect it, but I liked it.” Yoosung reassured. He caught Saeran watching him wearily. “I promise.” He added. 

Saeran nodded weakly. He didn’t look directly at Yoosung. “Okay.” He breathed, more trying to convince himself. 

They’d fallen asleep distanced after that. In the days that followed, Saeran seemed to only add to the distance outside of the bedroom. Yoosung knew him well enough to know he was blaming himself still for the kiss. 

He made a plan, sitting on the edge of the bed as Saeran worked on the desk in the corner. “Saeran? Can you come here?” Yoosung asked innocently. Saeran looked over, closed what he was doing and got up, joining Yoosung on the bed. He eyed the blonde warily. 

Yoosung reached half way for Saeran’s hand, nerves relaxing when Saeran offered it. He drew circles on his skin with his thumb, partly buying time before speaking. “Can.. I kiss you?” Yoosung asked, cheeks already pink. 

Saeran’s eyes widened, scanning the blonde to look for any sign of dishonesty. “You... really want to kiss again? Even after...”

Yoosung squeezed his hand to cut him off. “Last time wasn’t bad, Saeran. I just... it was a lot. I liked it. I like you.” 

Saeran relaxed a bit. He nodded, watching for Yoosung to go on. When he didn’t, Saeran kept it going. “So you...?”

“Can I kiss you Saeran? You can move my hands.” 

Saeran nodded. He moved to hold both of Yoosung’s hands, heart racing a bit at not knowing everything that was about to happen. He closed his eyes, flinching slightly when he felt gentle lips against his own. Yoosung pulled back, silently checking on Saeran. When Saeran nodded, he leaned forward again, keeping the kiss gentle and chaste. He pulled back soon after, Saeran looking at him with curiosity and confusion. In the past, gentle kisses like that had always been mocking for Saeran. Yet, Yoosung had no contempt in his actions. It was pure. 

“Again.” Saeran whispered, and Yoosung obliged, giggling a little. Saeran found himself studying it. The foreign gentleness that was so unmistakably Yoosung. The kiss made emotions gather in his chest instead of his stomach. 

He pulled him a bit closer. Yoosung kissed him again, making Saeran’s heart flutter. His gentle touch was nothing he’d experienced before. Savior’s touch had always held an air of dominance, just challenging him to step out of line and face the consequences. His hookups had been pure mutual greed, with no care for how the other felt. But Yoosung was different. Every time they touched, Saeran knew it was because they both wanted it. It was always innocent and made his heart race. Made him comfortable and happy. Yoosung was his safety. 

They’d continued with Yoosung’s style of kissing. Saeran soon felt comfortable enough to lead the gentleness, much to Yoosung’s delight. Soft kisses when they woke, soft kisses in greeting, and soft kisses before bed soon became habit. 

Milestones kept coming. Saeran felt comfortable enough to hold Yoosung when they fell asleep, and soon decided he was never going back. Yoosung’s gentle breathing and warmth reminded him he wasn’t alone. It kept his nightmares at bay. But, added closeness brought issues too.


	2. Thoughts

Yoosung often tossed and turned. It was amazing he could always wake up first with how poorly he seemed to sleep. Saeran didn’t mind it usually. He knew the constant tossing and turning that his own nightmares often brought. Although Yoosung didn’t say he had nightmares, Saeran did his best to be supportive. 

Unless, of course, he was being woken up by the other repeatedly shifting to try to get comfortable directly against his crotch, forcing him to leave the sleeping man to go and take care of himself in the bathroom. 

It was shameful for him. He didn’t feel he was worthy of sexualizing the blonde. Yoosung was pure. He was beautiful and kind in every way. Saeran was broken. His skin was pale and covered in jagged scars that each held some awful story. Although he’d never seen the other naked, he imagined his skin was bare. Untouched by Saeran’s evil. 

Saeran groaned in annoyance as he palmed himself over his pants. Since he met Yoosung, masturbation had become more of an annoyance than anything. It was just another thing to hate himself for. He pulled his shirt over his head, kicking off the rest of his clothes and stepping into the shower. 

The water was hot on his back. Saeran rested an arm against the wall of the shower to keep his balance, taking himself in his hand. Saeran closed his eyes, stroking himself as thoughts and fantasies started to form into a concise image. Yoosung. He could almost hear the small whimpers and pants he’d gotten from Yoosung just from kissing him. He wanted to hear so much more. 

Saeran sped up his movements, thrusting into his hand and imagining it was Yoosung, fit perfectly on his lap and moaning into his ear while Saeran fucked him roughly. He wanted to mark up his perfect skin, bite down on his shoulder and make him scream. He wanted complete control over Yoosung. To own and mark up every part of him. He’d look so pretty with tears in his eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure. Saeran’s hips stuttered, cum spilling out onto his hand as his hips rocked through his orgasm. 

He couldn’t enjoy it. Shame and disgust almost immediately set in. Saeran washed himself off, turning the water to freezing as if to punish himself. He finished cleaning up, stepping out and got dressed quickly, not wanting to spend one more moment exposed. Saeran went to the computer instead of the bed. He didn’t deserve to be near Yoosung. 

Yoosung knew the moves to this dance, but not how it started. He knew seemingly randomly, he’d wake up alone. Saeran would be avoiding him, but Yoosung had room to push. If he just got more clingy, gave him extra kisses, eventually Saeran would give in. 

Yoosung frowned seeing Saeran at the computer when he woke. He sat up, watching him for a few moments before speaking. “Can’t sleep?”

Saeran flinched, not expecting Yoosung to wake. He looked back at him, then back at the computer. “No, just... have something to finish.”

“It’s lateee.” Yoosung whined, pouting. Saeran bit his lip. “Finish later, come back to bed.”

“I’m busy.” 

“Pleaseeee?” Yoosung begged. When Saeran ignored him, he truly frowned. “Did... I do something wrong?”

Saeran’s blood ran cold hearing the question. Here he was, avoiding Yoosung to try and protect him, and only hurting Yoosung still. He always hurt people. 

“Saeran?”

It broke him from his thoughts. Saeran knew he had to be honest, but also knew the honesty would hurt Yoosung. He thought back to a past conversation, where Yoosung had asked him to tell him if he ever felt like this. He remembered how caring Yoosung had been when he first told him, how his praise made him feel warm. Saeran took a shaky breath. “I want to hurt myself.” He admitted quietly, looking away in shame. 

Yoosung frowned, heart aching. “Saeran, I- please come to bed? So we can talk about it? Or.. or just be close?” 

Saeran hesitated, but gave in. He sat on the edge of the bed, back to Yoosung. Yoosung didn’t move, letting him have his space. 

“Should I get a first aid kit?” Yoosung asked gently, breaking the quiet. 

Saeran shook his head no. “I... I didn’t do it. I just.. I just want to.” It was embarrassing to say. He hated showing weakness, especially verbally admitting it. 

“Can I come closer?” Yoosung asked gently. 

Saeran bristled. “How?”

“I want to sit by you and hold your hand.” When Saeran nodded his consent, Yoosung made good on it. He put his legs over the side of the bed, copying Saeran. He held his hand gently. 

“I’m sorry.” Saeran whispered, looking away. 

“I’m glad you told me. You’ve come so far. You’re so brave.” Yoosung praised him. Saeran bit the inside of his cheek at the irony. “Do you know why..?”

Fuck. Yoosung asked the one think Saeran both expected and dreaded. It felt dirty to lie to the boy that took his every word as truth, but the truth was much worse. He took a deep breath. “I... I don’t know.” 

“It’s okay not to.” Yoosung squeezed his hand. Saeran took his hand back. It felt wrong to touch Yoosung when he’d just touched himself. Yoosung frowned slightly, but quickly masked it. He didn’t want to make Saeran feel guilty for setting limits. 

They sat like that in silence. Saeran found himself trapped in his mind, finally forcing himself to stand. “I feel better. We should have breakfast.”

The heavy atmosphere didn’t change. Yoosung knew Saeran was lying. He stuck close to him, making sure he was safe. 

As supportive as Yoosung strived to be, times like this hurt. It was becoming more frequent that Saeran would wake up first, obviously affected by something he didn’t trust Yoosung to know. No matter how hard Yoosung worked, there was always another wall. Always something Saeran couldn’t trust him with. Yoosung knew first hand how long healing took, but having the progress they’d made suddenly taken away with no obvious cause was so frustrating. 

Saeran’s reformed distance hurt. When Yoosung went to kiss Saeran goodnight and he pulled away, he almost broke down in tears right there. Yoosung couldn’t fall asleep, back to Saeran. Saeran didn’t hold him anymore. 

It felt like a punishment. Yoosung chastised himself for thinking so selfishly, but having what he worked so hard for ripped away ate at him. 

Saeran was at his computer when Yoosung decided to bring it up. He sat on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow as he willed up the courage to speak.   
“Is it my fault?” 

Saeran took a few seconds to register the words. He immediately stopped what he was doing, turning in his chair to face Yoosung. He almost regretted it. He looked so small hugging a pillow, watery eyes pulling the air from his lungs like a punch. It was like looking down at a puppy he’d just kicked. 

“Is it my fault?” Yoosung repeated, wiping one of his eyes off on the pillow. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Saeran struggled to reply. His heart felt like it knotted. “No. Of course not. Why do you-“

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Shit. Saeran really did feel like he’d been punched. He almost wished Yoosung would, if it would make the crying man feel better. Saeran deserved worse. “I- I’m sorry. I..”

“What did I do?” Yoosung’s words were struggling to stay even. Silent tears fell down his cheeks. 

“Nothing.” Saeran spoke softly, trying to do what Yoosung did when consoling him. “You.. you didn’t do anything. It’s my fault.”

“How.. how can I fix it?” 

“I.. I’ll fix it. I’m sorry.” 

“Can... can you come here?” Yoosung sniffled. Saeran barely hesitated. He tensed when Yoosung leaned against him, head on his chest. Awkwardly, Saeran wrapped his arms around Yoosung, rubbing his back. Yoosung’s body trembled in Saeran’s arms as he sobbed, all of his fear and stress coming out at once. Saeran held him through it, whispering apologies into blonde hair.


	3. Pancakes

Yoosung knew he was the emotional one. He picked up on Saeran’s emotions, reading him like a book when his walls cracked. 

He knew Saeran was struggling with something. And, he knew he was being selfish. Saeran had worked so hard to get to this point, he should be grateful. But, knowing something was bothering the other, something Saeran didn’t trust him to know, ate at Yoosung. He always just wanted to help.

Yoosung’s head pounded when he woke up to an empty bed. His heart sank to his stomach. What did he do wrong this time?

Being with Saeran felt like a dance that was still being choreographed. Yoosung barely knew the steps, and seemed to constantly trip over his feet. 

Yoosung forced himself out of bed, yawning and stretching. He didn’t go far, just to his computer. LOLOL would be enough to clear his mind until hunger took over. 

—

“Shit! Hey, watch it!” Saeran swore, pancake mix hitting him on the cheek. 

“Hey! Don’t complain after you asked me to help!” Saeyoung lightheartedly chastised through a shit eating grin. 

“ _Asked you_?” Saeran glared. “You barged in and decided you were helping! I don’t need you.”

Saeyoung’s half faked hurt, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. “Ah! You wound me. After all I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?” 

“Yup.” Saeran flicked the mixer at his twin, shooting him with pancake batter. 

Saeyoung looked down at the batter on his signature hoodie, and back at Saeran. He lowered his voice to a light hearted threat. “You’ve made a dire mistake, baby brother, challenging the God 707 to a food fight.” He grabbed a table spoon as if it was a weapon, scooping out as much as he could fit on it.

“Stop.” Saeran demanded. Saeyoung froze, arm cocked back mid swing. Pancake batter dripped onto red hair. “I’m making this for Yoosung, not for you to play with.” 

Saeyoung knew Saeran’s boundaries weren’t to be crossed, especially when it came to Yoosung. Just Saeran saying who it was for was big enough. Not long ago, Saeran treated Yoosung like a secret, a weakness not to be revealed in fear of it being exploited. Saeran had played the game of matchmaker before. He’d already tried the plan of making someone attached to someone, just to take that person away as leverage. The idea of karma coming back and perfecting his plan kept him up at night. 

“Do we have any fruit?” Saeran asked, breaking Saeyoung out of his frozen state. 

“Uh, just strawberries, probably.” Saeyoung said, helping himself to raw pancake batter and quickly regretting it. 

“That’ll work.”

“To... bake into pancakes?”

“How’s it different from using blueberries?”

“Uh... want to find out?”

Saeran hesitated, but shook his head no. He had to make these at least positively edible for Yoosung. It was the least he can do. 

Saeyoung was the best help when he barely did anything, at least in Saeran’s opinion. Saeyoung didn’t mind sitting back on the counter and watching him cook or handing him things when asked, just happy his brother was actively participating in his presence. That alone was a blessing. 

Saeran carefully poured maple syrup onto a stack of pancakes, making sure to center it and keep the drips even. Some nagging voice told him Yoosung wouldn’t like it if it wasn’t perfect, and Saeran didn’t want to risk it. He balanced sliced strawberries on top before deciding it was done. Saeyoung gave him a thumbs up. Saeran rolled his eyes. 

Saeran carefully brought the plate to their room, kicking the door gently to knock, scared to take a hand off the plate. 

Yoosung turned to the bangs, jumping up from his seat when he realized what it was. He opened the door, lighting up seeing Saeran. 

Saeran wasn’t used to gifts, either giving or receiving. He stood awkwardly, an uncomfortable half grin on his face. 

Yoosung found it adorable. “Is this... for me?” 

Saeran nodded, clearing his throat. “Uh, yeah. Uh, good morning.” He held out the plate for Yoosung. He took it, giggling.  
“Hey, what’s so funny?” Saeran relaxed seeing Yoosung happy with it. 

“You!” He laughed, strawberries shifting and falling from their perfected positioning. 

Saeran flinched slightly. Did he do something wrong? Yoosung seemed happy...

“You’re so cute, Sae.” 

Saeran felt his cheeks flush. With the adorable way Yoosung’s nose scrunched, he knew he noticed it to. 

“Just... eat it already.” Saeran tried to come off as nonchalant. Apparently he failed, with how it only earned him more giggling from the blonde. Task failed successfully?

“Okay, okay. Only if you help!” Yoosung sat on the bed, bouncing a little. Saeran sat next to him. “Wait... how are we going to eat this?”

“Huh?” Oh. Shit. Saeran had been completely preoccupied with making it look perfect, he completely forgot utensils. “I’ll get it! Just... wait here!” Saeran shot to his feet, hurrying to get what he’d forgot. 

Yoosung was so in love with this man. 

“Got it!” Saeran came back in, holding utensils in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He’d forgotten to get a drink too. 

If only Yoosung could tell him. 

Yoosung grabbed a strawberry, holding out to Saeran. He looked at it curiously. Yoosung shook it a little to emphasize it. “C’mon, eat it! Like the movies.” 

Saeran chuckled softly, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. He took the strawberry in his mouth, eating it. “‘U’ve been ‘atching too many ‘omcoms.”

“Hey! Did no one teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Yoosung teased. 

“Nope.” Saeran stuck his tongue out before swallowing. 

“Gross!” Yoosung’s nose crinkled, laughing as he playfully pushed Saeran. 

Saeran took the shove, watching Yoosung as he started to eat. He studied his face, how he lit up eating it, overemphasizing his enjoyment with a hum to show Saeran. Saeran smiled softly, heart fluttering. Weird. 

Yoosung shared his breakfast with Saeran. When they finished, Yoosung put the plate on the nightstand, kissing Saeran’s cheek. He took his hand in his own. “Thank you, Saeran. It was perfect.”

Saeran’s breath caught when his eyes met purple. He knew Yoosung had to make a conscious effort to make eye contact. It made Saeran’s heart race, suddenly self conscious if his hands were clammy or not. Weird. Yoosung always made him feel weird. 

Saeran wasn’t thinking when he leaned in. For once, he wasn’t analyzing everything action and it’s possible outcomes. He was just feeling. Feeling how his heart raced, how soft Yoosung’s lips were against his own. He reveled in the small gasp of surprise from the blonde. 

Saeran pulled back slightly, looking into purple eyes that met his gaze. He grinned, and kissed Yoosung’s smile. It was gentle at first, his lips moving against Yoosung’s, guiding it. Saeran’s tongue darted out to tease Yoosung’s parted lips, earning a shaky gasp from the blonde. 

Yoosung’s hand rose, gripping Saeran’s shirt. His breath caught when Saeran stopped his hand. He broke the kiss, opening his mouth to apologize, when Saeran placed Yoosung’s hand on his thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place after Jumin’s good ending! 
> 
> Ilovetheseboyssomuchtheydeservetheworld
> 
> I’m really unhappy with this chapter’s length so I’ll likely be updating much sooner than next friday


	4. Wading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags updated with trigger warnings! Please stay safe!

Yoosung’s eyes widened, meeting Saeran’s. He wasn’t good at reading facial expressions, but still scanned his face for any hint of explanation. 

Saeran bit his lip, pale cheeks dusted pink. His eyes looked anywhere but Yoosung for a few seconds before relenting to meet his gaze. 

Yoosung smiled reassuringly, gently cupping his cheek. Saeran tensed at first, but quickly relaxed into it. 

“Can I?” Yoosung whispered. Saeran nodded. 

It was Saeran’s turn for his breath to hitch when Yoosung kissed him. He quickly got his confirmation that Yoosung had understood his signal. The kiss was full of heat that Saeran quickly matched, lips moving together with less and less rhythm. 

Yoosung squeezed his thigh gently, tongue darting out testingly. Saeran’s lips immediately parted, making a conscious effort to match Yoosung’s intensity. 

Saeran’s heart skipped a beat hearing the small whimper from Yoosung. He took it to memory, something to lull over later while he was at school. 

Saeran tilted Yoosung back a bit, taking the lead. One hand went over the one on his thigh, the other on Yoosung’s waist. 

The more intensity Saeran brought, the more noises he could draw from Yoosung. He was addicting. It was only when he felt Yoosung had moved closer that he broke the kiss. 

“Fuck...” Saeran breathed, unable to mask the arousal in his voice. Yoosung was a vision, lips slightly swollen and wet, face flushed and eyes dazed. Yoosung was kneeling, thighs spread. The prominent bulge in his pajama pants knocked the breath out of Saeran, and only helped bring his attention to the ache between his own legs. 

The haze started to fade. Yoosung closed his legs, admittedly rocking slightly for the little friction it gave. He started to remove his hand, but Saeran caught it, holding Yoosung’s hand in both of his own. 

Yoosung looked up at Saeran’s face, but Saeran was busy watching their hands. 

“Do... you want me to leave so you can...?” Saeran started. Yoosung flushed even deeper, but shook his head no. 

It felt like they were at a standstill, neither wanting to risk setting off the rising tension by starting to talk. Yoosung dared to break the silence. 

“Wow...” He breathed. Saeran looked up at him. “We... should do that more.” 

Saeran only nodded slightly. He didn’t know where to look. “You’re hard.”

Yoosung yelped, caught off guard by the sudden bluntness. “Y-you are too!”

Saeran’s light blush set in deeper. He covered himself with the blanket. Yoosung did the same. 

“I... I‘ll go to the bathroom.” Saeran said quietly, letting go of Yoosung’s hands. Yoosung couldn’t help how his heart ached watching Saeran leave. 

Saeran did his best to be nearly silent as he got off. Yoosung sat still, hoping at some point, he could hear the slightest sound from Saeran over the pounding of his racing heart. 

Yoosung couldn’t bring himself to touch himself. Not while knowing Saeran was just down the hall. He shifted, trying to elevate the pressure, but all it did was tease him with a taste of friction. 

If he didn’t do it now, Saeran would come back to Yoosung still hard. He quickly decided that was more mortifying than just getting it over with. 

Yoosung’s breath shook slightly as he palmed at himself, gentle at first, as if he was testing if he could really do it. Finally, Yoosung pulled down his pajama pants, stroking himself freely. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand to muffle himself. 

Saeran turned the faucet off, drying his hands and making his way back to his room. He paused at the door, hand frozen in the air about to knock, when a muffled moan of his name knocked the air from his lungs. 

Yoosung was touching himself, and thinking of Saeran. It felt so foreign, like there was a mistake. It was supposed to be the other way around. 

Saeran felt heat shoot through his body at the thought. He stepped back, deciding to let Yoosung be. His mind raced, thoughts of what it looked like behind that door following him back to the bathroom. He needed a shower. A cold one. 

—  
Yoosung shifted in his seat, shaking his foot anxiously as the professor droned on. He couldn’t focus on anything he said, thankful for the voice recorder he brought so he could replay lessons later. 

He looked back down at his phone, hoping there would be some notification to draw his attention away from the events of the morning. 

They hadn’t mentioned it again. Yoosung had simply showered and watched what he could of morning cartoons with Saeran before leaving for class. The air of what they’d done had never dissipated, but neither had the courage to bring it up again. 

A relationship with Saeran had always been unplanned. Yoosung had spent years fantasizing about his future, planning and imagining every tiny step and detail. None of them had included a mysterious man with mostly white hair. 

Saeran was nothing he’d ever experienced before. When they met, his presence was overwhelming. 

Yoosung had thought he could handle it when he’d dropped by Seven’s house uninvited. The dorm wifi had gone down, and he had school work to do and raid bosses to kill. 

He hadn’t expected Seven to open the door as little as he could, striped glasses crooked and one lens shattered. 

“Yoosung? Why are you here? You- you should go.” Seven had no humor in his voice. He couldn’t help but notice the blood that dripped slowly down the side of his head. 

“Seven.. you, you’re hurt! What’s going on?” Yoosung had tried to push Seven back, surprised when the exhausted man gave in a few steps, enough steps to see the cause.

“Get back! Don’t fucking touch me!” The scream had hit his ears before Yoosung even saw the source. An almost clone of Seven, but with a slightly rounder face and far less weight. He had a fistful of his white hair, and a broken chair leg pointed at Yoosung. 

From the other side of the room, he swung his makeshift weapon as he yelled, the threats blurring together in Yoosung’s ears. All he could see were bright mint eyes, unnatural yet conveying enough of a single emotion he could recognize it; fear. 

Yoosung was shoved out of the doorway by Seven, and the door shut in front of him. He stayed far longer than he should before leaving, his first time seeing Saeran trapped in his mind. 

Yoosung cringed remembering his first reaction to it. The idea that somehow, he could be like Rika and help save him. How the first thing that came to mind was his classes on fear based aggression in animals. 

Although now, he smiled slightly remembering his first ‘conversation’ with Saeran. Every time he’d made planned visits, Saeran had avoided him like the plague. It took Yoosung constantly pushing to try and interact with him that he got a response. 

“I’m not some fucking challenge, blondie.” Saeran had snapped, arms crossed and nails dug into his side to ground himself. “And I definitely don’t need a fucking vet. Who the fuck do you think you are? I don’t need you constantly chasing after me. I don’t need [i]you.[i]” At the time, Yoosung had stood stunned as Saeran slammed the door in his face, but now, he was thankful for it. 

It was enough of a slap in the face to move on. Yoosung took out library books on psychology, finding out far more about himself than he wished as he tried to use the pages to see things how Saeran did. 

Eventually, Saeran would start talking to Yoosung while he visited Saeyoung. Little things at first, like telling Yoosung to move out of the way, but soon enough to actually start a small conversation. 

Yoosung had found himself hanging off of and memorizing his every word. His favorite food was ice cream and his favorite flavor was strawberry. He’d never had strawberry milk, and had lit up a bit when Yoosung brought him some. 

Quickly, Yoosung saw him as a friend rather than a project. 

The shuffling of people getting out of their seats brought Yoosung out of his thoughts. He stopped the voice recorder, stashing it in his bag and joining the crowd as they left. He texted Saeran as he got on the bus. 

**★:** Leaving class!!! I gotta go to my dorm to go do the actual work now :p

**Saeran:** why wouldn’t you do the work during class

**Yoosung ★:** I couldn’t focusss ;;;

**Saeran:** are you coming back tonight?

**Yoosung ★:** I don’t think I can ;;; I’m sorryyyy!!!

**Saeran:** ok

Saeran bit his lip, feeling his chest constrict painfully. It always did when Yoosung said he couldn’t come visit. He knew he should probably tell Saeyoung, but his hatred of hospitals was enough of a deterent. He could keep quiet about what ever weird thing was going on with him. 

The feeling didn’t go away. It rooted itself deeper and deeper, traveling through his veins with a cold bite to it. Saeran’s legs trembled. He forced himself to sit on the bed, holding his head in his hands. 

Yoosung was avoiding him. That had to be it. He’d pushed too much. It was so obvious. Yoosung was so perfect. Even Savior left him behind because he was already pure! And here he was, letting his poison drip into Yoosung. He was a virus, some trojan to trick Yoosung into ruining his carefully planned future. All he did was take and corrupt. 

His thoughts had seemed to have emptied the room of it’s oxygen. Saeran held his chest, gasping to try and force air past the growing lump in his throat. 

He dug his nails into his thigh, abandoning his attempts at air in punishment of the thoughts he couldn’t chase. Saeran knew his history. Most of his scars were self made, symbols of the mental abuse ripping through to the surface. He’d have many more if Saeyoung hadn’t meticulously cleared the house of anything he could use as a weapon. The day Saeran got a mirror returned to the bathroom was a celebration. 

He knew the intrusive thoughts that followed him well, the ideas that nipped and scratched at him. Ways he could hurt himself, or hurt Saeyoung. Yet, they’d been taking new form recently. 

_’Cut off your filth from his finger tips. No skin you’ve touched can be healthy.’_

Saeran grabbed fistfuls of his hair, curling in on himself. He hit his head with open palms, but all it did was make his eyes unfocused and head ache. 

“Stop! Shut up! I won’t do it! I won’t hurt him!”  
_’I made him filthy.’_  
“Stop! Go away! Leave me alone! I won’t, I won’t!” Saeran was screaming, punctuating himself with blows to the head. 

Saeran only knew he wasn’t alone anymore when a hand wrapped around his wrist before his next hit could make contact. He froze, eyes meeting Saeyoung’s figure for a second before looking away. His breathing started to slow, giving in. Saeran was aware enough to know he couldn’t escape if Saeyoung really did try to restrain him. He didn’t want the trauma of reliving how hopeless he could be. 

Slowly, Saeran leaned against Saeyoung, that small part of him from when he was younger still clung on, still desperate to just be brothers again. Saeyoung didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him. 

“Saeyoung?” Saeran asked after a few moments, voice raw and hushed from overuse. 

“Yeah?”

“Can... you change the door passcode?”


	5. Visiting Room

Saeran was always running. He was trapped in a race with the clock, and every time he stumbled, it only got closer. 

If he still went to his therapist, they’d probably tell him he was creating a self fulfilling prophecy. They’d probably be right. But every solution always lead to the same conclusion. No matter which rope he followed, he’d always find the end tied to a table leg. Maybe he was just a marionette, his strings handed back to himself, but no matter who controlled him, the dances they taught stayed as muscle memory. 

His mind couldn’t change as easily as scenery could. The blue hue of the computer screen stung his eyes as he worked mindlessly. From the day Saeran arrived at Mint Eye, he’d been groomed into what he had become. His fate had never been in his own hands until now, and he desperately tried to pull the strings the way Savior had before. 

First, he had to give up distractions. 

Yoosung had changed everything. He’d come into Saeran’s life and started cutting the strings that kept him standing. He made Saeran’s heart ache when he noticed the slightest waver in the blonde’s cheery attitude, and made his face burn an embarrassing red when Yoosung expressed his affection for the white haired man. Yoosung had single handedly pulled Saeran’s heart out of the prison he’d carefully crafted and onto his sleeve. He’d left him vulnerable, and would take the half he gave and run when it inevitably broke. 

Saeran had to escape first.

Saeyoung did what was asked, deciding it best not to pester Saeran for a reason why. He returned to his office, tripping over discarded pants and falling into his chair. Hesitantly, Saeyoung pulled up the messenger. 

Yoosung was there, whining about school work he was actively avoiding while Jumin attempted to talk some blunt sense into him. Saeyoung’s face twitched into a pained smile. Yoosung really had no clue of what happened to Saeran. 

Saeyoung took on his persona, teasing Yoosung and Jumin cheerfully. He couldn’t tell him, it wasn’t his place. 

Yoosung ★: Good morning!!!  
Yoosung ★: how did u sleep??  
Yoosung ★: or did u not sleep at all -.-

707: aha! You wound me, Yoosung!  
707: I slept!   
707: I slept...  
707: A full 3 and a half hours!  
707: thats 7 divided by two

Yoosung ★: -.-   
Yoosung ★: thats not good for you!!  
Yoosung ★: did something happen??

Saeyoung sucked in a breath, tapping his fingers on his desk as he thought of a response. 

707: nope!  
707: you care so much for me~~  
707: you better not be falling in love!

Yoosung ★: of course not!! Ur my friemd!!!

707: typos~~~

—

It was easy to play stupid. Yoosung could avoid so many conflicts if he just pretended not to notice them. 

The fact Saeyoung had been suffering behind 707’s happy grin for so many years still ate at him. He’d been so naive, taking everything at face value and never looking deeper. If he’d just asked a little more, maybe Rika would still be herself. Maybe Saeyoung would have come out of hiding sooner, and Saeran would’ve been home years prior. Maybe he wouldn’t be where he is now. 

Yoosung clutched the bouquet of yellow daisies in his hands, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes tightly to seal in tears. No. He couldn’t cry already. Even if all of this was his fault... he owed it to them to make it happy again. 

All he had to do was play dumb and lower expectations. 

Yoosung’s hand trembled slightly when he knocked on the door. He stepped back, shrinking a bit as he waited for the response. 

“Come in!”

The cheeriness knocked the air out of him. Yoosung hesitated, slowly pulling down the slanted door knob and stepping in. 

“Yoosung! You’re here! I’m so so happy to see you!”

Yoosung felt her head hit his chest before he registered she’d left her bed. His head was underwater as he finally wrapped his arms around the small woman to return the hug. He let her pull back, struggling to register her movements. 

“I.. I brought you flowers.“ Yoosung forced a small smile, holding out the bouquet. 

Rika lit up, taking them and smelling them enthusiastically. “Thank you! Here, let me-“ She grabbed a paper cup, filling it with water from the bathroom in her room and putting it on the window sill. She put the flowers in, clapping excitedly as she turned back to Yoosung. “See? Aren’t they beautiful?” 

“Y-yeah. They look great. I’m glad you like them.” 

Rika sat on her cot, tapping the mattress next to her to invite Yoosung. He sat a few feet away from her. 

“What have you been doing?” He asked, hoping to keep her talking. Yoosung knew he couldn’t hold a conversation, not when nothing felt real. 

Visiting Rika at the hospital had to be semi rare. Yoosung despised how much he struggled to be around her, but even though she’d almost been back for almost a year, his mind struggled to understand it. It was stupid. He’d struggled for so long to ever get a semblance of acceptance that she was dead... and now, he can’t accept she’s alive. 

“Yoosung? You there?”

His thoughts were broken by her hand waving in front of his face. She giggled when he startled. “Yeah, I’m here! Sorry.. what were you saying?” 

He forced himself to stay present, no matter how much his mind wandered to anywhere else. It was painfully ironic, to struggle to be around the woman he’d longed to see again for long. 

It was different now. Before, Yoosung always followed her, doing as she said and helping out. Only Sally’s death had shown a moment of weakness in her. Yet now, it was almost equal footing, with the one in charge changing every sentence. It gave Yoosung whiplash, to see the powerful beacon of hope he’d followed for years so dull and weak. 

Oh, how he hated change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the lack of updates! School and mental health is kicking my ass, but I’m trying my best to continue to update!


End file.
